


SHIELD's Little Surprise: Jemma!

by SHIELDAgentMD



Series: SHIELD's Little Surprise - Jemma! [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Team as Family, love and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9142453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHIELDAgentMD/pseuds/SHIELDAgentMD
Summary: A little less than a year after Skye’s transformation into a little girl, a mishap in the lab causes Jemma Simmons to regress as well.  A new adventure begins…





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so... my little Skye series is not yet quite finished, but I have decided that I owe everyone who has been waiting SO patiently for me to update. This first chapter of this series contains the events of Days 1 and 2 of Jemma's transformation. This of course precedes the one-off that I previously wrote. So, here you go, for all the fans of these concepts and stories, especially those who have written such encouraging reviews! A gift, to wish you all a very Happy New Year!

**Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D**

**SHIELD’s Second Surprise!**

**Chapter 1 – Intro: Little Jemma**

This is the first chapter in a spin-off series of stories that takes place following the conclusion of my original ‘S.H.I.E.L.D’s Little Surprise’ series (http://archiveofourown.org/works/4966825#main).  These stories are meant to be fun, sweet, thought-provoking and heart-warming.  They *may* or may not contain scenes of corporal discipline (spanking), possibly of a minor child.  This is *not* a ‘condonement’ of spanking children in any way, and any such scene will be depicted in a very loving, non-abusive manner.  If this may still be a trigger for you, I encourage you not to read this series.

This is a fanfic based upon the incredible television series, Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.  Every character referred to is directly from the show/Marvel Universe, and I hold NO claim to the characters or the plotlines of the show that many of my stories are based on.  I *highly* recommend watching the first 2.5 seasons of episodes before reading these stories, as many references to events in the episodes will be made, and therefore, better understood.  Equally important is to read my first SHIELD’s Little Surprise series, which sets up the entire concept of this series, and will be referenced frequently. 

**For this chapter in particular, it may be especially beneficial to review the events of Chapter 8 - ‘Jemma’s Unforgiveable Act’.  The file that Coulson references is from Chapter 6, Part 1 – ‘Interstellar Adventures’.**

**WARNING** : These stories will contain spoilers from the show, up until mid-Season 3. (Minus all of the Grant Ward stuff because it was just too disturbing. ;) ) Enjoy!

Summary: A little less than a year after Skye’s transformation into a little girl, a mishap in the lab causes Jemma Simmons to regress as well.  A new adventure begins…

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

“Simmons.  It’s high time that we have a talk.”

The SHIELD team have done all they can for now to hinder Hydra’s terrible plan of intercepting Inhumans and exposing them to Extremis.  Using _Jiaying’s ledger_ and crime and hospital reports, they have actively sought out all of the Inhumans they can find thus far and warned them of the potential danger.  Once Mack and Fitz perfected dozens of delivery mechanisms for the antiserum that Jemma created, those were sent out to the contacted Inhumans, just in case.  Luckily for everyone, a few new allies of various abilities were also made in this process.

Now things have calmed down just a bit, and Dr. Jemma Simmons suddenly finds herself facing the three highest ranking members of the team, all of whom are looking rather serious.

“Director… Agent May, Agent Morse… w-what can I do for you?” the brilliant biochemist asks, immediately nervous.

In her usual no-nonsense, nonverbal style, Melinda May drops a file onto the lab table in front of Jemma.

Simmons looks down at it and feels her breath catch in her throat.  She recognizes it, of course.  But how on Earth did they find it??

“When were you planning on telling us about this?” Coulson asks calmly enough, though his features remain serious.  “Or were you never going to tell any of us?”

Still not breathing, Jemma hears her heart pounding in her ears as she looks from one top agent to the next.  When her gaze lands on Bobbi she sees understanding, maybe even empathy in her S.O.’s regard, but she also senses that Bobbi will not come to her rescue on this one.

“We had a right to know,” comes May’s sharp voice, drawing Jemma’s attention abruptly back to her.

As Coulson nods in agreement, Simmons swallows hard and manages to find her voice.  “Sir… Ma’am, please… I… I did create something that… that I believed might be a cure,” she admits slowly, thinking fast.  “However… knowing what we now know from Asgard, it never would have worked.  Only the… ‘Spirit of Light’ thing can possibly change Skye’s condition…”

Coulson holds up a hand and the nervous young woman falls quiet at once.  “But you completed this before you and Skye were abducted,” he points out sternly.  “When did you concoct this formula?”

“I… I…“ Jemma looks desperately around.  When she glances again at her S.O. she notices Bobbi looking pointedly at her and nodding almost imperceptibly.  The words, ‘tell the truth’ pop into her mind.

“I, er… I completed that file approximately… t-two weeks before… before Lady Sif arrived.”

Having made this admission, Simmons’ face turns pink and she looks down, trying not to fidget.

Morse bites her lip uncomfortably.  She understands why the others are upset.  A secret of this magnitude… and yet, had she been faced with the same situation, she’s not quite sure that she would have done anything different.  Still...

“Jemma,” she begins, and Simmons is grateful to hear a gentleness in her S.O.’s voice.  “Why did you not tell us?  Why keep it hidden away, secret?”

Simmons rubs a random spot on her arm, seemingly in self-comfort.  “I… I was afraid!  I was afraid that everyone would see it as some wonderful breakthrough, and administer it immediately.  I feared that… that we would lose little Skye forever.”  Jemma feels slightly ridiculous at this, afraid that she’s sounding a bit whiny and pathetic. 

Coulson however nods, his expression still serious, but now thoughtful as well.  He moves to sit down across from Jemma, sighing warily.  “Simmons… I understand that.  Believe me, I do.  But I gave you a task to complete.  And when you complete a task, you are to report it immediately.”

“You know this,” May interjects sharply, the only one who doesn’t seem quite as sympathetic to Jemma’s excuses.

As Bobbi sits down next to Coulson, the Director adds heavily, “and not only that… but you flat-out lied to me, Jemma.  I asked you time and again for an update…”

“Please, sir…” Jemma begins desperately, unable to stand the guilt that accompanies the truth in this statement.  “We know now that the serum would not have been successful on Skye.  Thus, it could have had unforeseen terrible consequences had it been administered to her…”

“That’s not the point,” May cuts her off.  Her voice softens considerably, as she does appreciate Jemma’s honesty and perspective.  “Simmons, do you actually believe that we would have just injected Skye with the serum simply because it was available?  I’ll tell you what would have happened…” May moves around to the side of the table and leans against it, close to the nervous biochemist.  “We would have sat down, as a group, and discussed what to do.  We already agreed on Skye’s first days that there was no rush on a cure because Skye deserves this second chance at a childhood.  No one in this base is in any hurry to snatch that away from her.  Do you not trust us?”

Jemma’s head is hanging low and yet Bobbi can see moisture forming on the young woman’s eyelashes.  “Jemma… you should have told us,” she agrees gently.  “We had a right to know.”

Simmons nods and quietly states in a shaky voice, “I know.  I-I’m sorry.”

“Well… that can be discussed later, as we all have business to attend to.” Coulson states, giving May and Bobbi an unhappy nod.  “In the meantime… is there any other possible application for the serum that you concocted?”

Jemma wipes her eyes quickly before shaking her head.  “No, sir.  It was created for Skye and Skye alone.  It contains blood samples from before her transformation, which of course encompasses both her alien DNA and the GH-325 formula.  Giving any version of it to anyone other than her could have disastrous consequences.” 

Coulson nods thoughtfully.  “Well then, as it wouldn’t benefit her even if we decided to try to return her to her original age, I suggest that you get rid of it.  And Jemma… I expect better from you in the future.  If you wish to be trusted, you cannot be dishonest with me or the team.”  Phil decides to leave it at that, knowing that either May or Bobbi, or perhaps even both, will see to it that that lesson is reinforced later.

Coulson and May leave, but Morse lingers behind.  She hates having to punish Jemma, never ever wanting to hurt the sweet, petite young woman.  Bobbi circles the table and places a comforting hand on Jemma’s back, giving her a warm smile.  “You know…” she begins softly, “…this really was meant to be.  Little Skye belongs with us, just like the adult Skye did.”

Simmons manages a grateful smile back at her S.O.  “Yes, Ma’am.  It certainly seems so.”

Morse nods.  “Honey… we are a family.  And family takes care of its own.  We want what’s best for Skye.  No one wants to act according to what is more ‘convenient’ or beneficial for us.  We would never turn our back on Skye, or on anyone on this team.  Just… try to give us all a bit more credit, okay?”

Jemma looks rather sheepish at this, but smiles warmly when Bobbi leans down and places a kiss on the top of her head.  Delighted to see her ward smile again, Morse pats her hand fondly before heading back into the next aisle to return to her own research.

With a heavy sigh, Simmons moves to dispose of the vial of serum.  As she heads to the disposal for hazardous liquids however, an edge of her lab coat catches on a corner of the counter, halting her arm.  The glass vial continues its momentum, and falls onto the floor with a crash. 

“Ohh,” Jemma whines quietly, and sighs again as she pulls on gloves and grabs a towel to clean up.  In the process of mopping up however, despite her great caution, a piece of broken glass nicks her pale skin.  As such, a trace amount of the antiserum suddenly enters her blood stream, and Simmons immediately starts to feel faint.

Just before her vision fogs over, Jemma weakly calls out the name of the other person who will understand the antiserum best.  “Bobbi…”

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

**Day One**

Upon barely hearing Jemma’s voice, Morse blinks and looks up fast from the DNA analysis she is studying.  Without a word to anyone else, she jumps up from her chair and dashes around the corner.  Her heart races.  Despite Morse’s many requests for Jemma to call her Bobbi, the respectful ward has always insisted on calling her ‘Agent Morse’.  Thus, Bobbi knows that there is something very wrong now.

As she quickly returns to the aisle Jemma had been working in, the problem becomes blatantly clear.  There, on the floor in front of her, is a small mound underneath a white lab coat.

Morse gasps loudly and falls to her knees next to the coat.  “No… Jemma,” she cries, reaching out.  Although she is rather terrified to do so, Bobbi slowly moves the coat aside and reveals a sight that, had it not been for Skye’s transformation, would have made her think she had lost her mind.  There, underneath the coat, is a tiny version of Jemma, just a child, unconscious with her long, slightly wavy brown hair lying across her angelic face.

Morse quickly checks her pulse to make sure that the mini biochemist is all right, and sighs with relief to find it normal.  She then gently pushes Jemma’s hair out of the way and gazes down at her.  Shaking her head in utter bewilderment Bobbi tears her gaze away and looks around.  She eyes the broken glass nearby and very carefully studies the label on a larger shard of it… a larger shard that seems to have a drop of blood on the edge.  Noting by the label that it had been the potential cure to Skye’s regression, Bobbi just stares in wonder, thinking hard.  Scientifically-speaking, how could this have affected Jemma in this way, even if she touched it?

Feeling an ever growing sense of déja-vu, Bobbi scoops up the little girl and holds her close.  After a moment, not knowing what else to do, she walks out of the lab with Jemma still cradled unconscious in her arms.  Ignoring bewildered looks from other lab assistants, she does instruct them to use extreme caution in clearing up the smashed vial.  Heading automatically toward May’s room, Bobbi presses the comm in her ear and says, “hey, guys… there was a… ‘mishap’, in the lab.  Jemma…”

At this moment however Morse trails off, briefly ignoring the cries of ‘what??  What happened?’ and ‘is she all right??’.  The agent isn’t entirely sure whether the child in her arms can subconsciously hear her or not.

Bobbi swallows hard and quietly continues, “just… meet me in the rec room in 5 minutes.”

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

Morse gently lays little Jemma down on May’s bed.  Knowing that she is going to have a major freak-out about this later, Bobbi forces herself to focus only on the task at hand.  She remains as gentle as possible as she delicately changes the child, removing her now much too big clothes.  Looking carefully at the unconscious girl, she estimates her to be about the same age as Skye. 

Bobbi chooses to dress Jemma in a pair of Skye’s pajamas as it’s easiest.  The agent takes a moment to appreciate how adorable Simmons was… is!… as a child.  Still very slender and petite, her brown hair falls just past her shoulders and has a natural wave to it.  Jemma’s tiny nose is as cute as a button, and her full lips are parted slightly in sleep.  Jemma looks so sweet and peaceful in the light blue flannel PJ pants and matching ‘Frozen’ themed shirt.

That done, Bobbi scoops the little girl back up and carries her to the rec room.  She quickly shakes her head at the entire team, who are all already there and clearly wanting answers.  The room is soon filled with quiet gasps and mutters and shocked exclamations. 

Everyone manages, with difficulty, to keep quiet as they watch Morse gently lay the child on the couch and cover her with a soft blanket.  Then Bobbi beckons everyone to follow her out to the hall, where they can speak more privately while keeping an eye on Jemma.

The blonde agent sighs hard and looks around at the team.  “She’s all right.  She’s just…”  Bobbi stops and gives a mirthless little laugh as she shrugs.  “Just like Skye.”  She runs a hand over her own face and shakes her head, mirroring the look of disbelief etched on everyone else’s faces.  Morse suddenly looks at Coulson, then gazes around.  “Wait, where is Skye?” she asks, as she knows that this is the Director’s scheduled time with his daughter.

Several others look to him as well.

“She’s in my office, working on that tiger puzzle.”

Everyone nods, grateful that they don’t need to contend with Skye’s curiosity and confusion at this moment.  They then glance through the window at the little girl sleeping on the couch.

“So… how??  The 0-8-4 was destroyed, wasn’t it?” Coulson asks, in alarm.

“As far as we know,” Mack shrugs, as it was up to Thor to take care of that.

Morse relates what she knows of what happened in the lab, voicing her hypothesis that the so-called ‘cure’ caused this. 

“So, hang on… the medicine that was supposedly meant to ‘re-age’ Skye, made Jemma regress??” Hunter asks.

“It seems so,” is Bobbi’s reply.

“How?” May, Coulson and Mack all say in unison.

Morse sighs and speaks up.  “Look, before we get into all of that… if this is anything like the situation with Skye, the little girl in there is going to wake up any moment, have no idea where she is, or who any of us are.  We need to decide, like *now*, how we’re going to handle this.”

Most everyone nods quickly, seeing the logic in this. 

“Well…” Mack begins thoughtfully.  “Skye adjusted rather quickly.  She didn’t really ask many questions for weeks.”

May scoffs.  “This is Jemma,” she points out.  “You really think that even as a child, she won’t demand an explanation for all this?”

Several agents raise their eyebrows… May has a point.

Coulson sighs, just managing to avoid pacing as he thinks hard.  “You know… this is such a different situation than it was with Skye.  Skye, at six years-old, had no family and was already used to being moved around, finding herself with strangers.  Jemma though… she grew up in a steady household with parents… in England, no less.  How are we going to explain how she ended up in America, here… with us?”

“Are her parents still around?” Mack asks curiously.

Coulson’s gaze lowers slightly, as does his voice.  “Actually, I looked into them while Simmons was missing, during her time on Maveth.  I was preparing to contact them to let them know that she was MIA.  In doing so, I learned that her father died from a heart attack just a few months ago, and her mother is declining mentally.  Alzheimer’s,” the Director explains regretfully.  “Jemma knows… or at least, the adult Jemma knew.  When she went home for that visit after recovering from Maveth, it was to visit her mother and settle her father’s affairs.  It was very hard on her.  Her mother didn’t know who she was.”

“Damn it,” Morse mutters, feeling the beginnings of a lump in her throat.  “Jemma has been through *so much* this past year,” she states.  “Now this…”

May nods slowly in agreement, then turns to Coulson.  “Look.  I know the situation with Skye became pretty clear-cut rather quickly.  We knew of her past and knew that she wished… literally… that it could have been different.  Simmons, however… her past seems to have been fine.  And she is *such* a valuable member of this team.  Irreplaceable, really.”

Coulson nods thoughtfully.  “True.  But she’s also probably the only person alive who could come up with a cure for this.  And the original cure she did come up with wasn’t successful… obviously,” he adds with a mutter.  “This leads me to believe that there may not be a solution for this at all.”

Morse thinks about this.  “While we work on figuring out a cure, we should also try to determine, just like we did with Skye… if Jemma had been given a choice as an adult, would she have wanted a second chance at a childhood?”

For the first time during this whole strange phenomenon, Fitz speaks up, startling everyone.  “She would,” he murmurs simply.

Everyone turns to stare at him.

Taking a deep breath, he explains.  “Simmons and I were in the lab together one day, not long after Skye’s regression.  We were talking about it, and I asked her, hypothetically of course, if she would ever want to redo her childhood.  She told me that while much of it was good, she would absolutely take a chance to do it over again.  To… to slow it down, and to change certain things… though she didn’t say what, specifically.”

Everyone looks surprised at this.  Coulson finally asks, “Fitz, do you… do you think she regretted coming to work for SHIELD?”

At this, Leo shakes his head right away.  “No, sir.  She loved the Academy, this team, and the adventure… though she admitted that she has had enough adventure recently to last several years.”

Everyone present can certainly understand that.

Fitz manages a humorless chuckle as he adds, “in fact, I even remember her stating that she would have loved to grow up as Skye is now… with the world travel and scientific resources that she has access to.  She also…“ he trails off.

Bobbi stares intently at Fitz.  “She what?” she asks, eagerly.

Leo sighs, squeezing his eyes shut.  “She… she said that she wouldn’t mind forgetting some things.  _Ward’s_ _betrayal_ , _including him dropping us into the ocean,_ and everything he’s done since… _her stay on Maveth, and… and Will’s death_.”  He swallows hard, still suffering for what he believes was his part in that.  He tries to change the subject, though he’s hesitant to share this next bit as he isn’t sure that Jemma would want it known.  “Anyway, she also mentioned that… that she was a bit envious of all the attention and… and affection that Skye receives.  I think… I think she didn’t get much of either while growing up.”

After a moment of thoughtful silence and consideration, Bobbi says, “all right.  So we shouldn’t necessarily be in any kind of rush to find a cure for this… an actual cure… if such a thing can even be found.  We still need to decide what to tell little Jemma when she wakes though, which could be any moment.”

Mack, Coulson, May and Hunter all shift uncomfortably at this. 

Finally, being the decisive leader that he is, Coulson commands, “for now, we simply tell her that her parents are unable to care for her at this time, and that she will be staying with us for awhile.  May, Andrew is coming to the base for an appointment with Skye tomorrow, right?”

May nods.

“Perfect.  We’ll see if he is willing to do an intake assessment on Jemma.  I would like him to consult with us on this as soon as possible.  His evaluation should help us determine how to move forward.  In the meantime… we just… ‘introduce’ ourselves and try to reassure her that she is safe and cared for here.”

Everyone nods with a quiet, “yes, sir”.  Everyone except Fitz.

“So… who exactly is going to take charge of her?” Mack asks, glancing between May and Coulson.

There is only a moment of contemplative silence.  Then…

“I am,” Bobbi says, her voice full of determination.

Hunter blinks in alarm.  “Bob?” he asks, quietly.

Morse nods.  “I’m her S.O.  She’s my responsibility.  She can stay with me, and I’ll take care of her.”

Lance gives Morse a look and steps in closer to her to mutter, “uh, don’t you think that this is something we should discuss?  We’re bunking together now, don’t I get a say in whether we have a kid??”

Bobbi turns to face him with a certain fire in her eyes.  “I’m doing this.  You don’t have to help care for her if you don’t want to, but I’m Jemma’s S.O. and I *want* to look after her.  She saved my life before.  I… I need to do this,” she tries to explain.

At that moment movement from inside the rec room catches everyone’s eye, and the agents turn to see a familiar-looking little girl sitting up slowly on the couch, looking down at her clothing in confusion.  The agents exchange a look as Bobbi turns away and enters the room.

“Hey there, honey,” Morse says softly, smiling down at the clearly disoriented child and kneeling next to the couch.  “My name is Bobbi.  How are you feeling?”

Jemma’s gaze is still a bit out of focus as she stares at the pretty agent before her.  The little girl blinks several times before gazing around the dimly-lit room.

When Jemma next looks at Bobbi, it is with fear in her eyes.  “I… I don’t…” Jemma’s soft voice quavers, breaking Bobbi’s heart.

“Okay… okay, sweetheart.  It’s all right,” she coos gently, reaching out to take Jemma’s tiny hand in hers.  The little girl shifts uncomfortably.  “I know that you’re confused and maybe a bit scared right now.  But I want you to know that you are perfectly fine, and that you’re safe here, okay?”

But despite these reassurances, little Jemma’s eyes are filling up with tears.  In a rather choked voice the frightened child manages to squeak out, “wh-where am I?  Where’s my mummy and daddy?  I-I want my mummy and daddy…”

Every agent’s heart breaks at this, and May steps forward to address the little girl.  “I’m afraid that they’re not here right now, Jemma.  We’ll be taking care of you for awhile.”

The little girl only looks more bewildered and frantic at this.  “No!  No, I… I want to go home,” she insists, scooting to the far end of the couch and sliding off of it to stand.

Morse swallows around a lump in her throat as she cautiously approaches Jemma.  “Jemma, honey…” she begins, reaching gently out to her.

“No!” Jemma cries, quickly moving away from Bobbi’s touch.  “I-I… you… you’re a stranger,” she exclaims, looking around frantically at what must be a rather intimidating group of adults. 

“I know, honey, but…” Bobbi stays where she is, not wanting to frighten the child, but it seems that little Jemma is beyond that already.  The child suddenly makes a mad dash for the door, running right past Fitz out into the hallway.  The agents left behind hear a squeaky British accent shrieking, “Mummy?  Daddy?!” as she goes.

Both Hunter and Morse head out of the room in pursuit of the child, Bobbi giving the unmoving Fitz a dirty look as she goes.  Once they are gone, Coulson lifts a hand to his temple, rubbing hard in an attempt to stem an impending massive headache.  He then turns to the team’s young tech engineer.

“Fitz, we still need to seek out a ‘cure’ for this.  Do you think you can help Bobbi continue Simmons’ research?  Try to correct the antiserum?”

As the Director looks at the younger man however, he knows that something is very wrong.  “I… I can’t do this,” Fitz mutters suddenly, before turning and walking right out of the room.  A stunned silence is left in his wake.

Coulson, May and Mack stare after him, at a complete loss for words…

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

As Hunter and Morse round the corner, following Jemma’s cries, they just catch a glimpse of the little girl running toward the end of the hall.  For a brief moment Bobbi feels a sense of relief and even slows down.  The hall dead ends into the security door leading to the hangar, so the youngster will essentially be trapped.  Just as this comforting thought occurs however, the security door opens.  Jemma wastes no time ducking under the arm of a newer tech assistant as he enters from the enormous hangar. 

“Seriously??” Morse yells in frustration at the unhelpful man as she breaks back into a jog.

Hunter follows, giving the befuddled man an apologetic look before following Bobbi through the door.

Morse staggers into the hangar and looks around quickly.  It only takes a moment to realize that the distraught little girl is nowhere in sight.

Cursing just under her breath, Morse turns wide eyes to Hunter and says frantically, “what are we going to do??  This hangar is probably a mile wide… she could be anywhere!  What if she climbs into a plane??”

Lance blinks at his ex-wife and holds his hands up.  “Whoa… calm down, love.  We know she’s here somewhere.  We just look.”

Morse slowly nods, taking a few calming breaths.  She then moves along the wall to the left, peering behind boxes of ammunition and weapon crates, gently calling Jemma’s name.  Hunter takes the wall to the right.

Hunter hasn’t searched long when he hears a quiet, muffled sob.  His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he heads quietly toward the sound, moving underneath a metal staircase.  He presses the comm in his ear and whispers Bobbi’s name, then hears the sound again and lowers his gaze.  He maneuvers through a thin path between crates under the stairs and finally spots a tiny bundle of light blue huddled beneath the bottom steps.

Quietly breathing a sigh of relief, Lance steps back out and waves Bobbi over, guiding her to the hidden youngster.  When Morse sees the light blue she too lets out a sigh of relief and kneels down to address the scared child.

“Jemma… honey?  Are you all right?”

Little Jemma gasps and lifts her tear-streaked face from where it had been buried in her knees.  Keeping her legs pressed in tightly to her chest, she squeaks again, “I-I want my mummy and daddy… please!”

Morse isn’t sure how much more of this her aching heart can take.  “Oh, sweetheart.  I’m… I’m afraid they’re not here right now.  I’m sorry…”

Hunter puts a hand on Bobbi’s shoulder and speaks up.  “But… we’ll try to find them for you.  All right, Jemma?”

The distraught little girl goes quiet and she slowly sits up a bit to peer up at Lance.  Sniffling, she quietly says, “you… you sound like me”.

Both Morse and Hunter immediately recognize this as a chance to reach the little girl.  “That’s right, love.  I’m from London.  And you… you’re from Sheffield, aren’t you?”

Jemma nods slowly, wiping her eyes daintily on her sleeve and staring at Hunter.

“Sheffield,” Lance nods and racks his brain quickly, adjusting his accent just slightly to further match Jemma’s more northern lilt.  “I’ve been there, you know?  It’s quite beautiful… Hathersage, and Higgar Tor… I once played cricket at Whitley Hall,” he adds casually.

Jemma blinks and quietly exclaims, “m-my daddy took me there.  We watched a match.”

“Is that so?” Lance asks gently.  “And did your team win?”

Little Jemma manages a small smile and nods.

“Ah, well then… they did better than me,” Hunter quips.

Throughout this little conversation, Morse has hung back.  She’s been keeping quiet, impressed.  Now though, she gives Hunter a gentle nudge and gestures for him to try to lure the youngster out.

Lance nods subtly, keeping his gaze on the child light.  “Well now, love… how about you come on out of there and tell me all about it?  We can go have something to eat,” he offers.  “I can make us some tea and how about… some fish and chips?”

The timid little girl makes a face and shakes her head. 

“No?  All right then.  What about… beans on toast?” Hunter proposes, remembering that to be one of his favorites as a child growing up in Britain.

Jemma’s face lights up just slightly at this suggestion and she nods. 

“Beans on toast it is,” Lance agrees, hoping desperately that they have a stash of baked beans in the kitchen.  “Come on then, darling.”

The youngster slowly stands and bites her lip.  Jemma carefully slips back through the very thin gap between crates and approaches Lance and Bobbi, still looking nervous.  Morse gives her tiny ward a kind smile and offers her hand, but the youngster doesn’t take it.  Instead little Jemma looks wearily at the hand and says quietly, “I can come by myself.”

While slightly hurt and disappointed at this rejection, Bobbi reminds herself not to take it personally.  She keeps her smile fixed and nods.  “Okay, honey.”

Morse follows behind Lance and Jemma, listening to her ex-husband regale the quiet girl with stories about the grand sport of cricket.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Meanwhile…**

 

“Skye… come here, bǎo bèi.  I need to speak to you about something.”

Skye looks up from her almost completed puzzle, then drops the puzzle piece in her hand and walks over to her mother.

May takes a deep but quiet breath, thinking very carefully about how to word what she will say next.  She had a brief discussion with the others on what to tell Skye, and everyone agreed… Skye will not understand that Jemma has been de-aged (which is highly ironic of course, given her own experience) nor would the curious, talkative youngster be able to keep herself from telling little Jemma about it.  While it won’t be easy, the only solution therefore is to make Skye believe that the child suddenly in their midst has no connection to the grown-up Jemma, other than name.

May knows that Jemma’s disappearance will be devastating for her little girl.  Skye adores Jemma, and spends a majority of her time with the biochemist.  This will be a hard adjustment, but a necessary one, until options are explored and a more final decision regarding Jemma is made. 

So, pulling her daughter into her lap, May attempts to explain.  “Bǎo bèi… there is something you need to know.  Jemma… she has a very important job to do for the team, so she had to go away for a while.  We won’t get to see her while she’s working.”

May hates lying to the child, but knows that Skye understands members of the team having to travel during missions, and it’s really the only explanation she can give that won’t devastate the little girl even further.

To confirm May’s expectations, Skye looks horrified.  “What?  No… how many days??  Where’d she go?”

Melinda swallows hard and strokes Skye’s hair.  “We’re not sure yet how long, bǎo bèi.  It… it may be a long time.”

The little girl’s eyes fill with tears that quickly start to spill over.  “She… she already leaved?  She didn’t say good-bye.  Why didn’t she say good-bye??”  Skye’s voice begins to sound frantic, and May hugs her closer.

“Well, she had to leave very suddenly, in a hurry.  But she’s okay, sweetheart.  And, while she’s gone, we have a new visitor that’s going to stay with us.  And… guess what her name is.”

Not to be distracted quite so easily, Skye continues to cry and curls up as close as possible to her mother.  “What?” she asks quietly, in a miserable voice.

“Well… it’s hard to believe, but her name is… Jemma!”  May tries to sound excited, but it’s a completely foreign emotion for her. 

Perhaps that is why Skye now gives her mother a skeptical, perhaps even suspicious look through her tears.

Melinda shrugs.  “It’s true.  Her name is Jemma, and she’s about your age, bǎo bèi.  And listen up… here is where we need your help.”

Skye sniffles and allows May to mop up her face with a tissue.  She then looks curiously up at her mother.

“Skye, do you remember your very first day with us?”

Skye thinks back and actually manages a smile.  “Uh-huh.  My birfday!  I turned six!”

May smiles softly at the memory as well.  “That’s right.  But do you remember before that, before your birthday party?  When you met us in the tunnels… you didn’t know us, or where you were, or why you were there… remember?”

Skye’s smile falters and she fidgets uncomfortably. 

May feels the child cling even more tightly to her.  She goes on.  “That was scary, wasn’t it?  You weren’t sure if we were nice, or if we would help you or take care of you.  Well… that is how this new Jemma feels right now.  She doesn’t know us, and she’s pretty scared.”

The new mother gives Skye a moment to process all this, then says, “so, since you know how it feels Skye, what do you think we should do?  How could we help her feel better?”

Skye absently twirls May’s long dark hair around her small fingers as she thinks.  Finally, she states, “we should give her cookies.  And ice cream!”

May stifles a grin.  “I bet that would make her feel better, bǎo bèi.  But I mean, how can we help her feel safe?  How should we treat her?”

The little girl looks thoughtful once again.  “Um… you should be real nice to her.  No getting mad,” she warns her strict mother.

Melinda chuckles and nods.  “Okay, that’s a good start.  And what are some things that *you* can do?”

Skye bites her lip.  “Um… I could play wif her?  Like hide-and-seek and tag?”

“Absolutely.  That would be nice of you,” May praises.  “And how about… sharing some of your things, bǎo bèi?  Little Jemma has nothing of her own… no clothes, no toys, no books.  Just like you didn’t.  We will get her her own things soon, but until then, do you think you can share?”

Once again, Skye looks uncomfortable.  May knows that Skye finally having her own things is a luxury that the youngster hadn’t known before coming to live with the SHIELD team.  It’s a lot to ask Skye to accept ‘big Jemma’s’ absence right now, it’s another thing entirely to ask her to share her possessions.  May is hoping that Skye’s natural compassion will win out now.

The mother is rather disappointed therefore when Skye suddenly frowns and shakes her head.

May blinks.  “Skye…”

“No.  No Mommy… I want Jemma back.  I won’t share until Jemma comes back!” the stubborn little girl decides.

May sighs heavily, a bit disturbed that her adoptive daughter seems familiar with ‘negotiation’ at the tender age of six.  “Well, I’m sorry bǎo bèi, but Jemma can’t come back yet.  And I do expect you to share, and be a nice friend.”

“But Mommy…” Skye’s voice quivers and her eyes fill with tears once again as she shakes her head miserably.

May knows that the little girl doesn’t understand these complicated matters.  All that Skye understands is that her beloved Jemma has suddenly gone away.  And perhaps she understands that a new child around means that she’ll have to share not only her belongings, but her newfound family.

With this in mind, May forces aside her frustration at Skye’s stubbornness, and instead pulls the youngster a bit closer in a warm embrace.  “I know, my baby.  I know,” she coos.  She holds Skye tight and pats her bottom in a soothing way.  “It’ll be okay, bǎo bèi.  You’re such a good girl.  I know that you’ll do the right thing.”

The agent mother allows her daughter to cry it out, offering much love and reassurance.  20 minutes later, Skye is feeling considerably better and is even ready to discuss what she’s willing to share with little Jemma.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

Hunter is quite relieved to find a few cans of baked beans in the kitchen.  Morse lingers out in the hallway to let everyone know, quietly via comms, that they had found Jemma and all is well.  As Lance pours beans into a pot on the stove to heat up, Jemma asks quietly, “what is my job?”  Hunter sets her in charge of making the toast, which seems to satisfy the youngster. 

Bobbi joins them in the meal, and is both surprised and impressed by Jemma’s impeccable table manners.  The little girl doesn’t sit down until both Hunter and Bobbi do, she immediately lays a napkin on her lap, and she doesn’t touch her snack until Bobbi encourages her to do so.  When Jemma does begin eating, she cuts her toast most skillfully, and eats each bite almost impossibly neatly.  She is quiet as she eats, nodding or shaking her head when asked a question.  The only question that requires a verbal response is in regards to Jemma’s age.  “I turned six in September.”  Otherwise, one could almost forget that she is there.  This astonishes Bobbi, who knows that Jemma must be bursting with questions. 

The youngster is the last to finish her toast, and when she does she quietly asks, “may I be excused?”  Bobbi and Hunter exchange a little look, completely unaccustomed to such manners.  Skye is a sweet and relatively polite child, but she is also an ultra-curious, energetic chatterbox who easily forgets her manners at times.  Jemma has been here all of about five minutes, and yet…

“Sure, honey,” Bobbi replies softly, curious as to what Jemma will do next.

The petite child simply rises, gathers everyone’s plates and utensils and takes them to the sink. 

In utter surprise, Morse starts to speak up, to tell Jemma that she doesn’t have to do this, but Hunter holds up a hand.  He has a curious expression on his face, and Bobbi finally nods in agreement, willing to see where this goes.

With no prompting, Jemma climbs up on a stool and begins washing the dishes.  Hunter and Morse stare in disbelief.  Bobbi leans over to Hunter and whispers, “have you ever seen such a young child behave like this?”

Lance shakes his head immediately, thinking mainly back to his little sisters in their youth.  “Never.”

The agents are both impressed, of course, but they are also somewhat troubled by the ‘abnormal’ behavior.  Bobbi jumps up and approaches the youngster.  “Jemma honey, you can leave those in the sink. We’ll put them in the dishwasher in a bit.” 

“I can do it,” is Jemma’s quiet, but immediate reply. 

“Yes, well… I can see that!  You did a wonderful job,” Bobbi says truthfully.  “Thank you so much for cleaning up, honey.  We do appreciate the help… but listen.  You aren’t expected to clean up after everyone, okay?” she states gently, leaning down to be closer to eye-level.

To Bobbi’s surprise, the child looks almost offended.  Seeing the look on Jemma’s sweet little face, Morse decides not to push the little girl, but to let it go for now.  “All right.  Well… let’s give you the grand tour, cutie.  This is a pretty big place, and there are some people who are really looking forward to meeting you…”

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Meanwhile…**

 

Leo Fitz walks purposefully to the Director’s office.  He just avoids being ‘introduced’ to little Jemma on her tour with Bobbi and Hunter by quickly changing direction in the hall at the sound of Bobbi’s voice.  Having taken a long way around, he now knocks on Coulson’s office door, a piece of paper in his hand.

“Come in,” comes Coulson’s familiar voice.

Fitz takes a deep, heavy breath and enters.  Before he can second-guess his hard decision the young engineer strides forward and places the paper on the Director’s desk.

Coulson’s suspicions are confirmed as he gazes down at the form.  “You’re resigning.”  This is not a question.

Looking at a point somewhere above Coulson’s left ear, Fitz nods.  “I can’t do this anymore.  I can’t… I can’t handle it.  My-my nerves are shot.”

Phil doesn’t doubt this statement.  He had noticed _Leo’s jealousy when Jemma befriended Trip.  He watched Fitz struggle and flounder while Simmons was away, undercover_.  Phil had then seen the devastation that had been wrought upon the young man both when Jemma had been abducted by Lady Sif and transported halfway across the galaxy[1], and of course when _she had been sucked into the monolith and disappeared for six whole months_. 

Jemma’s newest situation is clearly just the last straw for the young man.  Coulson had been afraid of this since Leo walked out of the rec room this morning.  He thinks hard about what kind of approach to take… should he be kind and understanding?  Should he get stern and confrontational?  Finally, he decides.

“I’m surprised at you,” he admits, in a level tone.  “After all that you’ve done over the years to protect Jemma, to keep her safe… you would abandon her now, at her most vulnerable?”

Fitz sighs hard, still trying to avoid Coulson’s eyes.  “It’s *because* of her vulnerability that I can’t stay,” he admits heatedly.  “Since our earliest days at the Academy, I have only ever seen Simmons in one light… as my equal.  Maybe even my superior.  We have been academic rivals, lab partners, friends, colleagues, ‘partners-in-crime’, even.  But deeper than all of that I have always hoped… I have always… “

Phil stares hard at Fitz, wanting the engineer to finally just come out and say it.  He has just about had it with these Brits and their lack of ability to convey any emotion beyond politeness.  “You’ve always what, Fitz?” he asks, sternly.

“I’ve… I’ve always loved her!  There, all right, I said it!  I love Jemma.  Always have!”  The words burst out of Leo as if shot from a long-dormant volcano.  “And… and now she’s… she’s what?  A little girl… a helpless child.  She is a tiny child who has *no* memory of who I am, or all that… all that we’ve been through together.  She doesn’t know who I am!”

“She doesn’t know any of us, Fitz.  Neither did Skye, after she touched the 0-8-4.  And look at how great you are with her; look how that’s turned out.”

Leo scoffs and shakes his head.  “It’s different.  It’s different sir, and you know it.  The universe has always kept Jemma and I apart in one way or another, but deep down I knew… I *trusted* that she and I might still get another chance.  Now though… this is it.  It’s over.  Jemma is a child, a small, defenseless child.  What am I supposed to do, color with her?  Read stories to her, have a tea party… give her a bath??  I-I can’t do it, I just can’t…”

Phil feels for the young tech genius, he really does.  He understands, perhaps better than most, the toll it takes to lose loved ones to strange circumstances, to be forced to give up on love.  _The true love of his life believes him dead after all, and he cannot counter that belief_.

Coulson finally nods.  “I’m glad to hear you finally admit your feelings, Fitz.  I know that you loved Jemma as she was.  And I know that she may be irrevocably changed.  But if you stick around, you may just learn to love her in a different way.  The way we have all done with Skye.  As a parent loves their child.”

Fitz sinks despondently into the chair across from Coulson’s desk and buries his head in his hands before shaking it.

Coulson however rises from his desk, buttoning his jacket with difficulty.  “I am already down one of the greatest hackers in the world, and suddenly I’ve lost perhaps the best biochemist that ever lived.  I don’t want to lose you, too.  However, I care about you, Fitz.  I really do.  Therefore, I will grant your resignation, after you have given a standard two-week’s notice.  Your first assignment during this time is to assess Jemma’s current academic level.  You assisted in Skye’s initial assessment, I now want you to gauge Jemma’s reading, science and math knowledge.”

Shaking his head in grave disappointment and dismay, Phil adds, “I’ll be very sorry to lose you, Fitz,” before heading out of the office.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

By the time she’s eaten dinner this night, Jemma has been shown around the entire base and has met everyone, even, briefly, Fitz.  Her meeting Skye had been rather anticlimactic… it seemed that neither youngster really knew what to say to each other.  Jemma does say a polite ‘thank you’ both to May and Skye when Melinda hands her a small pile of clothes that Skye agreed to let her borrow. 

“Maybe tomorrow I can take Jemma shopping, and she can get some of her own things,” Bobbi says cheerfully, for Jemma’s benefit but perhaps even moreso for Skye’s.

While Skye stares at Jemma, as if trying to figure her out, Jemma’s suddenly watery gaze lowers and she fidgets uncomfortably. 

Taking this as a cue that Jemma may be completely overwhelmed, Bobbi gives Skye a big smile and a hug, whispering, “thank you so much for sharing, munchkin.  You are awesome.”  She kisses her niece’s cheek, then rises and says gently to Jemma, “okay, let’s go put these clothes in our room for now.”

Bobbi resists the urge to offer the little girl her hand again, and instead leads the way back down the hall to the room she has been sharing with Hunter.  As she walks, the agent hears some quiet sniffles behind her.  Morse glances back casually to find Jemma following along, but with her arms wrapped around herself and tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bobbi murmurs, ushering the youngster into the room before her.  Morse sets the borrowed clothes down and immediately kneels on the floor.  “Jemma, honey… are you okay?  I know that this is a lot… isn’t it?”

Though she seems to be trying hard to stifle her crying, a squeaky sob escapes little Jemma anyway as she nods.

Bobbi gently wipes a few of Jemma’s tears away, saddened by the slight flinch this movement elicits.  The beautiful agent swallows hard, then asks softly, “what’s on your mind, Jemma?”

The little girl sniffles harder and wipes her eyes, then tries to speak around her sobs.  “I… I don’t want to go shopping for n-new things.  I want… I want to… to go home,” she manages to get out, before dissolving into heart-wrenching sobs and hiding her face in her hands.

Morse feels her own eyes welling up with emotion at this.  She isn’t entirely sure what to say that would make little Jemma feel any better, but she tries her best.  “I know, sweetheart.  I know, and I’m sorry that you can’t right now.  I know that all of this is very new and strange for you… but you know what?”  Bobbi gently strokes Jemma’s hair until the youngster glances up at her.  “All of us here… we are happy that you’re here, and we can’t wait to get to know you.”

At this moment, Hunter enters the room, carrying a small cot.  Upon seeing his lover and the crying little girl, he hesitates.  “Oh… am I interrupting something?” he asks sheepishly.

But Morse smiles up at him, rubbing Jemma’s back.  “It’s okay.”

As little Jemma rubs her eyes, Hunter catches Bobbi’s eye and mouths silently to her, ‘May said to give this to you’.  He slips something that was hidden behind the cot into Bobbi’s hands.  She glances down at it and her eyes light up.  It’s a storybook, ‘The Velveteen Rabbit’[2], which she happens to know had been Jemma’s favorite as a child.  Morse smiles warmly, and Hunter moves to set down the cot with a wink.

Making a mental note to thank May the next day, Bobbi slips the book behind a pillow on her and Hunter’s bed, then escorts a sniffling little Jemma to the restroom to get changed and washed up.  By the time they return, they find that Hunter has set up the cot with a couple small, soft, warm blankets.  A pillowcase featuring fluffy white clouds against a light blue sky encompasses Jemma’s pillow.  Now resting against the pillow is the book.

Jemma wanders over to the cot and picks the book up.  Morse takes this opportunity to give Hunter a grateful smile and a kiss.  “Thank you,” she murmurs sincerely, utterly relived that he seems to be warming up to the idea of caring for little Jemma with her.

The adults turn their attention back to the precious little girl in their midst.  Jemma is staring down at the book, which is a bit worn from having been read to Skye so many times, but is still in quite good shape.  Bobbi gets the impression that Jemma is trying hard to recognize the front cover, to recall it from a long-lost memory.  She has seen this intent look many times before, when Skye would stare into May’s eyes after her transformation.  She finds herself even more perplexed by the serum that caused this.

Morse is pulled from her reveries when little Jemma turns to look up at her and Hunter.  “Can… can I read this?” she asks shyly.

Both Lance and Bobbi smile and nod.

“Absolutely, sweetie,” Morse confirms.  At that, Bobbi gestures toward the book.  “Have you ever read it before?”

Jemma looks carefully back down at it, then shakes her head.

Bobbi smiles and sits down on her and Hunter’s bed, wondering at what age Jemma did experience the story for the first time.  She pats the spot next to her.  “Well, you see… it’s a very special story.  How about we read some of it before bed?” she offers hopefully.

Jemma gazes hesitantly as Bobbi.  “I… I can read it myself,” she states, and Morse can hear a sense of pride in the statement.

The agent raises her eyebrows.  “Wow, you can?  In that case, how about you come read some of it to me?”

Jemma bites her lip for a moment, before moving over and climbing up onto the bed.  Bobbi stifles a triumphant grin as she hands the book over to the youngster.  As Jemma settles down next to her, Morse glances across the room at Hunter.  He has sat down in an armchair by the dresser, and is pretending to be looking at his phone, perhaps to help the child not feel self-conscious.  Lance senses his lover looking at him and glances up with a slight smile and another wink.

Jemma begins to read, complete with introducing the book and the author, Margery Williams, and illustrator Don Daily.  Within seconds both Bobbi and Hunter are beyond impressed.  Used to Skye, who struggles still with reading and writing, (though she’s come a long way under Bobbi’s tutelage), it blows them away to listen to another child of the same age read with such seeming ease and fluency.

Jemma only hesitates at a few words, such as ‘mechanical’ and ‘government’, but sounds them out quickly enough.  When she reaches a sentence containing the word, ‘insignificant’ however, she pauses and glances up at Bobbi.  “Um… you can have a turn now… if you’d like,” the little girl offers.

Morse stifles a chuckle and nods, accepting the book.  “Thank you honey, I would like to.”  Bobbi continues reading happily, basking in the sweet, quiet warmth of the miniature version of her ward beside her.  After several minutes she catches Jemma stifling a yawn and closes the book.  “All right, Jemma.  I think it’s time for bed.”

The youngster looks disappointed, and almost as if she wants to argue the case, but with an uncertain glance up at Bobbi she chooses not to.  “Yes, Miss,” she replies quietly, sliding off the bed. 

“Good girl,” Morse praises quietly.  She pulls back the blankets on the cot and waits for Jemma to slide in.  Then she tucks the little girl in gently and kneels beside her.  “Okay, honey.  Do you need anything?”

Little Jemma shakes her head, looking carefully up at Bobbi.

Morse gives her a warm smile.  “All right.  Well, if you need anything during the night, you wake me up, okay?  Do you sleep with a light on?”

Jemma shakes her head, again with a slight flicker of pride.

Morse hides her surprise at this.  Again, she’s used to Skye now, whom she knows must sleep with at least a nightlight in the room.  “Okay.  Good night, honey.  Sleep tight.  Again… we’re very happy to have you here, Jemma.”

Looking worn and weary, little Jemma simply nods and turns over, curling up into a ball and hugging her pillow. 

As soon as the child has turned her gaze away, Bobbi sets a small, flesh-colored earpiece under the cot.  She wants to make sure that the ‘new’ youngster is okay, and be able to hear if she needs her.  Morse then gives Jemma a soft pat on the back, and heads out of the room with Hunter to discuss the day’s events with the rest of the team.

A few minutes into discussing Jemma’s transformation with everyone in Coulson’s office, Agent Morse begins to hear quiet crying in her comm, and she trails off sadly mid-sentence…

 

**Day Two**

 

The next morning, after seeing Skye off to school with May this time, Bobbi coaxes a somewhat refreshed little Jemma out of bed with talk of toast and jam… and of course, tea.  Without even thinking about it, Morse automatically hands little Jemma the box for the tea that her adult counterpart always drank in the mornings. 

As Bobbi sets the water to boil, Jemma gets to take care of the toast again.  The little girl stands on a stool and watches the bread in the toaster intently, seemingly determined for it to be perfect.  Her guardian approaches her and teases, “hey sweetheart, if you stay that close to the toaster you’ll get a burn on that cute little nose of yours”.  She gives Jemma’s nose a playful little tap and elicits the first quiet giggle from the child.  This sound sends a wave of happy warmth through the agent.

When the toast is done, Bobbi sees that it is indeed cooked perfectly.  Jemma smiles softly at the praise she receives for that.  The youngster helps Bobbi set the kitchen table, until the water kettle on the stove starts whistling.  Apparently without a second thought, Jemma heads over to it and reaches up to grab it.

“Whoa!” Bobbi exclaims, hurrying over and scooping Jemma up, lifting her up and away from the stove.  “No, no, little one.  I will take care of anything on the stove, okay?” she says, her heart somewhere near her throat.

Morse grabs a potholder from a drawer.  “Sweetie, the kettle is very, very hot.  You can’t grab it with your bare hands.”  Having moved the kettle and turned the burner off, she turns to find a rather dejected looking child watching her, her little hands wringing.  The sight saddens Bobbi, and she quickly seeks out something else to say.  “I bet you drink a lot of tea back home, don’t you?  We don’t have very much… so while we’re out today, you can help me pick out some new ones.”

Bobbi sends the little girl to get jam from the fridge, and Mack and Hunter enter the kitchen. 

“Good morning, ladies,” Mack says with a pleasant smile.  “What are you making us?”

Morse scoffs, knowing that Mack’s being playful, but Jemma looks slightly abashed as she hurries back to the counter to toast some more bread.

“Oh, Jemma… honey… he’s just teasing, it’s okay,” Bobbi reassures the youngster quickly.

Mack blinks and nods, walking over.  “Yeah kiddo, I don’t expect you to cook for me.  Go on and eat your toast before it gets cold.”

Jemma’s little hands wring more than ever now as she looks around at all of the adults.  Bobbi thinks she senses some serious issues of anxiety in the little girl.  She comes over and picks Jemma up, giving her a gentle hug.  She sits back down at the table and tries to sit Jemma in her lap, but the little girl gives a quiet whine and slides off, quickly moving into her own chair. 

Morse can’t help but feel a pang of rejection again, and she wonders where on Earth this is coming from.  She tries to shake it off however as she reaches to spread jam on Jemma’s toast, but a little voice suddenly squeaks out, “no, I can do it!”  There is a tone of frustration in Jemma’s voice that surprises Bobbi. 

Feeling like she just can’t do anything right by the child, Bobbi feels a bit of her own frustration growing.  “Jemma,” she begins quietly but sternly.  “If you want to do it yourself, that’s okay… but you don’t need to take that tone with me.  That’s not nice.”

Bobbi watches as the frustration seems to melt away from little Jemma’s features at the scolding and is replaced instead by fear and sadness.  The youngster once again wraps her arms around herself protectively and hangs her head so low that Morse is now gazing at the somewhat disheveled, uneven part in Jemma’s wavy brown hair.  She doesn’t miss the tear that falls into the little girl’s lap though, and all of her frustration immediately melts away as well.

Bobbi sighs and begins to rub Jemma’s back gently.  “I know, honey, I know.  It’s okay.  I’m not mad.  Come on up and eat, okay?  You can do it,” she adds, resting the butter knife for the jam on Jemma’s plate.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

Bobbi and the others soon learn that Jemma’s most common phrase is, “I can do it”.  Morse wonders about this insistence when the youngster turns down an offer of help again and again… to help make her bed, to put her hair up in a ponytail… little Jemma never seems to ask for help and in fact seems insulted when it is offered.

As she and Jemma arrive at the car they will be taking to go shopping and the driver opens the back door to reveal a booster seat, Morse starts to gain an understanding of what is behind the little girl’s determined independence. 

Jemma had been looking up at the immaculate black SUV in wonder, but now gives the booster seat a horrified look.  The child hesitates before quietly climbing up into the car… (again, Bobbi had to stop herself from offering to help lift Jemma in).  Jemma tries to ignore the booster seat altogether and sit down next to it.  Morse steels herself for a quiet battle…

“No, Jemma… you need to sit there,” she prompts gently, pointing to the seat.

“No,” the little girl responds, though she sounds more pleading than defiant.  “I’m not a baby.”

Morse sighs.  “I know you’re not a baby, sweetie… that’s not a seat for babies.  It’s a seat for six year-olds, like you.”

Jemma’s hands begin wringing desperately again.  “But… please Miss, at-at home…”

“Honey,” Bobbi interrupts softly, but in a tone that indicates that she will not negotiate.  “I’m not sure what the rules are in England (‘in the late 1980s’, Morse thinks).  But here in the United States, the *law* states that until you are a certain height and weight, you need to use a seat like this.  And we will not be breaking the law.”

Knowing that little Jemma has been through so, so much in the past 24 hours, Bobbi softens her voice again and adds, “come on, sweetheart.  I really want to take you out for a nice day.”

Finally, looking absolutely pained by it, Jemma slides into the booster seat.  Morse slides in to sit next to her and starts to buckle her in.  Little Jemma starts to interfere by putting her hands in the way, but ceases when Bobbi gives her a pointed look.  The youngster lets out a helpless little sob at this, and Bobbi sees more tears welling up in her eyes.

Unable to bear much more misery from her young charge, Morse quickly says, “okay, honey, look.  I’m going to show you how to buckle this, and then you can do it all by yourself next time, all right?”  This does seem to help and Jemma, subdued, pays attention to where the seatbelt must be tucked into.

“See?  You think you can do it next time?”

Jemma nods with a sniffle.  Morse smiles and gently moves to wipe a tear off the little girl’s cheek, but again as her hand approaches Jemma’s face the child gives an involuntary flinch.  Bobbi frowns in concern at this and turns to look into the weary child’s eyes.  “Hey… I’m not going to hurt you, honey.  You don’t need to be afraid of me, Jemma,” she whispers.  With that, she slowly and gently gives Jemma’s hair a stroke.

Jemma sniffles again in response.  As Morse sits back, she feels the eyes of the driver on her via the rearview mirror.  She shares a somewhat concerned look with him, and tells him which shopping center they are going to.

The drive is passed peacefully, with Jemma squirming uncomfortably in the seat, but looking out the window in apparent awe at the hustle and bustle on the streets.  Morse imagines that the girl is much more used to lush greenery and sprawling farm lands than this concrete jungle. 

Soon enough, they arrive at a large, open-air shopping center, and as the pair exit the vehicle, Morse considers what may be the next potential minefield.

Kneeling down, she looks into Jemma’s eyes.  “Okay honey, listen up.  This is a very big, very crowded place.  It’s really important that you and I don’t get lost or separated, so… I need you to hold my hand, okay?”

Readying herself for cries of, ‘no, I’m not a baby’, or, ‘I can do it’, Morse is thereby quite surprised when Jemma, who is looking completely overwhelmed again, simply nods and slips her tiny hand into Bobbi’s.

Morse blinks, then smiles gratefully.  “Good girl.  Thank you.”

The next several hours are spent wandering the mall, people-watching, and building Jemma up a wardrobe.  The youngster seems a bit shocked when Morse suggests a few pairs of cute jeans to her, and Morse is surprised to learn that little Jemma only ever wore skirts and dresses.  She marvels at how different this six year-old Jemma is from her adult counterpart, and wonders how much of that is attributable to the SHIELD Academy and joining the team.

Morse talks Jemma into getting some soft pants to wear ‘for play’, and the two, now laden with several bags of clothes and shoes, take a break for lunch in the food court.  Bobbi sends a quick text to update the driver while in line at an Italian stand.  As they eat their pasta and sip from water bottles, Morse mentally reviews what she’s learned about Jemma so far. 

The little girl is obviously very proud of her abilities and independence, and is affronted by others trying to help.  She is uncomfortable with people doing things for her, and perhaps even with shows of affection.  Jemma also seems to have some issues with anxiety, though really, who can blame her?  For all the child knows, she’s been plucked away, maybe even kidnapped, from her home, family, country and everything she holds familiar and is now surrounded by strange technological wonders.  She is also in the care of complete strangers, no matter how kind they may be.

Bobbi has been very pleased with Jemma during their shopping so far, however.  The little girl, clearly overwhelmed again, no doubt by the sheer size and hectic nature of the shopping center, has stayed very close to Bobbi at all times, and offered no resistance in holding her hand.  Jemma also hasn’t asked for anything, and shows sincere gratitude… something she has in common with Skye, though is quite rare in young children in general.  It is a sign that neither child was ever what one could call spoiled.

Bobbi pulls herself from her thoughts as their driver suddenly appears beside them.  She smiles and gratefully hands over their bags, and informs him they should be ready to leave in about an hour. 

After he departs, Jemma allows herself some curiosity.  “Who is he?”

“Well… he works with us, driving the car and running some errands for the team.”

Jemma wipes her face with her napkin, then asks carefully… “what are you a team of?”

Bobbi’s eyebrows raise.  She’s glad that she had to help answer this question for little Skye nearly a year ago.  “Well… we are a team of law enforcement.  We help fight crime, catch bad guys, and keep people safe,” she explains with a smile.

Jemma considers this for a moment, then her little eyebrows furrow.  “Wh…what happened to my parents?” she asks in just over a whisper.

Morse’s heart stops for a moment.  Jemma is staring at her both in desperation and dread.  Bobbi searches hard for what to say, knowing that the team has to come up with an explanation sooner rather than later. 

“I… I don’t know, sweetheart.  I’m sorry.  But I promise… as soon as we… figure things out, we’ll let you know, okay?”

With a heavy sigh, Jemma sits back again and nods, returning to pushing her penne around on her plate.

Morse lightens the mood by asking Jemma about some of her favorites: favorite color (blue), favorite TV program (some British show she’s never heard of called “Playbox”[3]), and favorite food (trifle).  At one point, Bobbi suddenly notices Jemma looking somewhat longingly behind her.  Morse turns around and sees a shop display full of books.  She smiles and turns back to the little girl.  “Jemma, I meant to tell you… you are such a good reader.  Do you like to read?”

The youngster tries to keep her enthusiasm muted, but Morse sees the twinkle in her eyes as her brunette head bobs up and down.

“Well… then I think we need to add to our library.  Want to go pick out some new books?”

The little girl looks a bit uncomfortable at this.  “But… we have ‘The Velveteen Rabbit’,” she points out quietly.

Bobbi chuckles.  “Yes… which you will probably finish tonight.  Tell you what… we’ll pick up some new books, but you’ll need to share them with Skye, all right?”

Jemma can’t hide her beam at this.  She manages a small smile and nods eagerly.

Thirty minutes later, Jemma is walking out of the store, one hand holding lightly onto Bobbi’s, the other hand happily clutching a book that she doesn’t want to part with yet.  Meanwhile, Morse carries a bag filled with several beginner chapter books of Jemma’s interest, and several not-quite-chapter books for Skye.  Also hidden in the bag is a special surprise for Jemma that had been purchased quite sneakily.  (Hey, being a superspy comes in handy outside the job, too.)

On the ride back to base, Jemma doesn’t fight the booster seat at all, but buckles herself in quickly and immediately settles down to read her new book.  Morse knows that she’s found a way to little Jemma’s heart when she notices the youngster’s legs happily swinging back and forth and hears a quiet giggle elicited by the story.  She gratefully tucks that into her mental inventory of all things Jemma:  books.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

Knowing that he needs to follow Coulson’s orders until his notice is up, Fitz spends the morning steeling himself to complete his assignment.  In the afternoon, when Skye gets back from school and Jemma returns from her shopping trip, he invites both girls to the dining room with him for a quick ‘math quiz’. 

Skye eagerly agrees when she sees that he has a small bag of mini marshmallows in his hand.

Once Skye and Jemma are seated at the dining room table, Fitz decides to start the girls off easily.  “All right, ladies… who can tell me what three plus two is?”

“Five!” Skye shouts out quickly, clearly thinking that this is a competition.  Jemma just glances at Skye somewhat in surprise and sits quietly, her hands clasped in front of her.

Leo chuckles.  “Yes, Skye, very good… but remember… when you want to answer a question, you need to raise your hand.  Now.  How about six plus one?”

“Seven!”

Fitz sighs.  “Seven is correct, but Skye… what do you do when you know the answer?”

Skye bites her lip with a sheepish grin and says, “raise my hand”.

“That’s right.  Let’s try one more time.  When you know the answer, raise your hand.  What is nine minus five?”  Fitz sees Skye open her mouth to speak, and quickly models raising his hand.

Skye obliges by throwing her hand in the air, but then immediately calls out, “five!  No, I mean, four!”

Fitz is about to smack his forehead, but doesn’t when he hears a sudden quiet gasp from Jemma.  The little girl is looking from Skye to Fitz nervously.

Wondering about this reaction, Fitz gives her a small smile of reassurance for… whatever the youngster is concerned about. 

Deciding that Jemma won’t get a chance to get a word in with Skye present, Fitz claps his hands once and says, “yes, Skye, excellent!  And that’s you all done, little one.  You can go play.”  With that, he places a few mini marshmallows in front of his little ‘sister’ as a reward.

Skye cheers and stuffs the treats in her mouth.  She then slides off her stool, grabbing Trip from the chair next to her, and runs out of the room.

Once the little whirlwind has left Fitz takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair.  He moves one seat closer to little Jemma and forces a soft smile.  “All right, Jemma,” he murmurs, trying not to choke around the name of the person that should be his brilliant colleague and best friend.  “It’s your turn.  Let’s see how quickly you can answer these, okay?”

Even as Jemma nods in response, Fitz immediately notices a change in the little girl’s demeanor.  Now, with Fitz’ attention entirely on her and her alone, Jemma is biting her lip, trying hard not to fidget, and when she takes a deep breath Leo can hear it shake.  His eyebrows furrow in concern.  He makes his voice as gentle as possible as he adds, “just do your best, all right?”

Jemma swallows hard and nods again. 

“Okay, let’s try… four plus one.”

Jemma’s lips move, but no sound comes out.  She clears her throat quietly and tries again, this time managing to whisper, “five”.

Fitz grins at the tiny girl and nods.  “That’s exactly right, very good.  See… easy, right?  No problem,” he encourages.

Jemma shifts slightly and nods, but as Leo watches her lift a hand to push her long brown hair behind her ear, he notices that that small hand is trembling. 

He can’t fathom what the poor child is so anxious about.  He hasn’t raised his voice toward her or been anything but kind, and he is trying to treat her as gently as humanly possible now.  Judging by her reaction however, he may as well be a fire-breathing dragon, threatening to eat her.

“Let’s try some more, just like that.  It’s like a game; try to answer as quickly as you can, yeah?”

Jemma sits up straighter and nods.

Fitz quietly and calmly asks her several more arithmetic problems.  He is impressed when she gets them all correct, including both addition and subtraction as well as pattern recognition.  The youngster seems to be relaxing just a bit too; with each question she gets right her voice and posture become a tad more confident. 

Pleased with this progress, Leo moves on.  “Excellent, Jemma, you’re clearly very good at Maths.  Now… have you ever studied multiplication?  For instance, do you know what three times three is?”

“Nine,” is Jemma’s quick, quiet response. 

Fitz raises his eyebrows and nods.  He asks two more simple multiplication problems and beams when she gets them right.

“And now, a bit trickier… can you tell me eight times seven?”

“48,” Jemma replies happily, then gasps and says, “oh, no… 56!”  The little girl gives Fitz a horrified look, and utterly surprises him by suddenly sliding off her chair and running over to a corner of the room.  She plants herself into it and begins muttering to herself.

“Jemma?” Fitz asks gently, slowly moving toward her, alarmed.  As he approaches nearer he sees that her hands are wringing again, and he hears what she is muttering.

“8x3=24.  8x4=32.  8x5=40…”

Rather bewildered, Fitz kneels down next to the youngster.  “Jemma… hey…”

As the child hadn’t heard Fitz’ approach, she starts.  Then, as the miniature future biochemist that he once knew so well turns toward him, her tear-filled eyes look scared.  “I’m sorry!” she cries, not quite meeting his eyes.  “I’m sorry, I do know it, I do!  Please… don’t be angry with me!  Don’t hurt me...”

Fitz just stares at the little girl, his mouth hanging slightly open.  “Hurt you??  Jemma, I… why would I hurt you?”  But Leo knows deep down that the only reason Jemma would say something like that or be behaving in this way is because somebody did.  Somebody was hurting her when she was this age… though as he knew Jemma’s mum and dad to be truly kind, who it was remains a mystery. 

When he places a gentle hand on her back, meaning to comfort her, little Jemma flinches with a quiet gasp, and he knows that his theory is correct.

“Hey…” he prompts the little girl to turn and face him fully and takes her little hands in his to still them.  “Jemma, you-you just made a mistake.  It happens.  It’s okay.  And I… I would never hurt you, Jemma.  Never.”

As Agent Leo Fitz looks deep into the scared child’s eyes, he truly recognizes them at last.  He sees a hint of the nervous girl he had met at 16 at the Academy.  Realization dawns on him like a tidal wave.  For over a decade he and Jemma have always, always looked out for each other.  He knows her better than anyone else on the planet.  And right now, she needs him… more than ever.

Swallowing the lump in his throat and forcing back the tears that are threatening to descend, Fitz gives Jemma the kindest smile he can offer.  “You are safe here, Jemma.  I promise.”  He nods as the little girl’s tears subside and puts on a more cheerful affect.  “And… you are so very clever!  Look at all those Maths questions you got right!” he praises.  Fitz rises and retrieves the bag of marshmallows.  “I’d say that you earned some marshmallows, if you’d like them.”  He beckons her over.  “Have you had a marshmallow before?”

Jemma eyes the bag in his hand and shakes her head, sniffling.  Fitz grins again as he notices her take a tentative step out of the corner.

“Oh well, they’re very soft.  A bit like taking a bite out of a cloud, really.  Here… try one,” he encourages, holding it out.

Little Jemma approaches slowly, still very timid.  As she cautiously reaches out for the marshmallow, Leo is suddenly reminded of a person using a treat to try to tempt a frightened, abused puppy out from underneath a bush.  The analogy doesn’t strike him as funny in the slightest.

Jemma’s tears subside completely as she delights in the unfamiliar sweet, and she gratefully accepts another.  After spending a few more minutes gently reassuring and praising the child-version of his best friend in the world, Fitz dismisses her back into Bobbi’s care and heads straight to Coulson’s office.  He barges in without bothering to knock.

“Director?  You were right… all right?  I want to rescind my resignation.”

Coulson glances up from a stack of files.  After a very pregnant pause he says, “you’re staying?”

Fitz nods, with a clear look of determination.  “Jemma needs me.  I’m not going anywhere.”

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

Two hours later, Coulson, Hunter and Morse are to be found waiting in the hallway outside the rec room.  Bobbi has just filled the others in on her outing with Jemma when Dr. Andrew Garner walks out, chatting with the little girl. 

He kneels down to be eye level with her.  “Well, Jemma… it was very nice to meet you, and I’m glad we could get to know each other a bit.  I will come see you again soon, okay?”

Jemma gives a shy but polite nod, glancing around at all the other adults in the hall.

Hunter comes forward and says, “hey there.  Bobbi was just telling me about all the new books you got today.  Can you show me?”

Jemma nods with a smile, unable to hide her eagerness. 

Morse smiles fondly as she watches the two head down the hall.  She then turns back to Coulson and Andrew.

Not exactly a man known for his patience, Phil simply says, “well?”

Dr. Garner takes a deep breath and lets it out.  “Well… once again you are in a… very unique situation here, Phil.  I hardly know where to begin.”

Coulson nods.  “We know.  And of course, we want to do what’s best for Jemma.  We’re just hoping for a bit of help figuring out what that is.”

Andrew nods back.  “Well, of course today was just an initial assessment, a chance to meet, so I can only speak to that.  And as our session was only about 30 minutes long I still don’t have much to go on.”  The two agents nod their understanding as they follow the psychologist back into the rec room and take a seat.  “So… having been regressed has clearly done nothing to hinder Jemma’s intellect.  Truly, even at this age, her intelligence is likely off-the-charts.  This is a good thing, naturally, but it may also come with its own set of behavioral issues.  Children with hyper-intelligence are often prone to be easily bored if not kept intellectually-stimulated.  They may tinker and experiment, with good intentions, but potentially dangerous consequences.  A select few may use their intelligence for manipulative purposes, or may actively seek out ways to impress others that they know are downright dangerous.”

Seeing the alarmed looks on Coulson and Morse’s faces, Andrew quickly puts his hands up.  “I don’t think that that is something we need to worry about with Jemma.  If anything, I sensed the opposite.  Jemma doesn’t seem the type of child to use manipulation to get what she wants… I didn’t see any red flags in her behavior, and the woman we knew certainly didn’t have those tendencies.  From what I just witnessed, Jemma seems much more likely to carefully shape her words and actions to try to *please* others.”

“However, Jemma is… clearly dealing with a lot right now.  I saw a lot of behaviors just during our short session that seem linked to some pretty serious anxiety.”

“I’ve noticed that, too,” Bobbi agrees, her eyebrows furrowing. 

Andrew nods.  “Try to keep track of how often you are seeing these signs, and when they are occurring.  Keep a log, if you need to, detailing things like hand-wringing, trembling, nervous fidgeting, leg bouncing, shallow-breathing or hyperventilation, nail-biting, self-isolating… sometimes children with anxiety even have trouble with wetting the bed.  Keep an eye on Jemma’s sleeping patterns, too… is she sleeping well?  Or is she tossing and turning and waking frequently?  Does she seem refreshed in the mornings?  That sort of thing.”

“What if we could monitor her vitals biomechanically?” Coulson asks, thinking of the biobracelet that Skye used to wear.  “We could record her sleep, blood pressure, heart rate…”

“Well, that would be terrific.  Concentrate more then on tracking when these behaviors are occurring and what is bringing them on.  Sometimes it might be certain environments, sometimes specific triggers that are tapping into some form of PTSD, sometimes it’s even certain people and their ‘energies’.  If you begin to recognize a pattern of what is leading to the nervous behaviors, it may help us come up with appropriate treatment.  For now… it would be good to get a baseline, see what is normal for her. 

“Of course, bear in mind that as she’s in a new, strange-to-her environment, the readings should be above average for awhile,” Andrew continues.  “My recommendation for now is to show great patience and kindness with interacting with her.  Don’t force Jemma into uncomfortable situations, and listen closely to her feelings.  If you go somewhere and she seems overly anxious or says she wants to leave, leave.  This will help prove to her that she is safe here and can trust you… that you care deeply about her. 

“At the same time, part of what will help Jemma feel safe here is to start establishing rules and expectations.  I know that you all saw that happen with Skye.  The sooner you set boundaries and reasonable expectations, the better.  She seems shy, so praise often, but don’t be boisterous when you do.  Quiet praise, or a pat on the back will be far more effective than singing her praises from the rooftops.” 

Dr. Garner pauses now and sighs.  “I know that this is a lot.  It may well turn out that Jemma’s behavior is simply an effect of finding herself in such a ‘foreign’ situation, and that with some time and patience from you all, she may adjust just as well as Skye has.  Only time will tell.”

Everyone falls quiet at this, trying to process all of this information.  Finally, Morse speaks up.  “Dr. Garner… we will be looking into a ‘cure’ for this regression, of course.  The hard decisions come if and when we have one.  What then?  Like Skye, we know that Jemma didn’t have much of a childhood.  Like Skye, this could be a second chance for her.  How do we know whether we should take it?”

Andrew chuckles.  “That… is a nearly impossible question to answer.  Watching her progress carefully over the next few months may give you the best indication of what to do.  But remember… there are many ways for childhood to end tragically early.  Being so focused and pressured to excel at academics is one way, sure.  But suddenly losing your parents and home at six years-old and not knowing why may just be another,” he points out, with a very serious look at both Coulson and Morse.  “Still, it’s a moot point until some type of cure is found.  So, for now, like any caregivers… just do your best.  And listen, if little Skye’s progress is any indication of the parenting to be found in this base, then overall, I say that Jemma is in very, very good hands.”  And on that encouraging note, the renowned psychotherapist takes his leave, until next week.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

After drawing a bubble bath for her young ward, Bobbi heads down the hall to retrieve Jemma from Hunter’s care.  She meets May halfway down, as the agent-turned-mother exits her own room.

“Hey.  How’s it going?” May asks, looking Bobbi over carefully.

Morse flashes a smile.  “It’s going fine.  It’s not, you know, easy.  It’s a lot.  But it’s fine.”

Melinda nods knowingly and halts Bobbi’s advance with a hand on her arm.  “Well listen… you and Hunter, you aren’t alone in this.  I’ve looked at Simmons as a d… well, I’ve cared about her for a long time now.  Everyone single one of us have contributed to raising Skye over this past year.  We’ll do the same for Jemma, Bobbi.”

Morse gives May a smile of genuine appreciation.  “Thank you so much, May.  That really means a lot.”

The two warrior women nod at each other in solidarity.

“Where are they?” Bobbi asks, curiously.

Just then, they hear a roaring coming from the room behind them, and they quickly step over to the doorway of the training room.

An amusing sight meets their eyes.  Both little girls are sitting on the raised sparring platform.  Jemma is sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, staring curiously up at Hunter.  Skye is sitting cross-legged, leaning forward in great anticipation and fidgeting as usual.  Standing before them, looking puffed up and ‘mighty’, is Hunter.

“So then the fierce warriors set off on their next quest… this time, they must hunt down a great big dinosaur… a T-Rex!”

“Nooo, Uncle… a bildshnipe!” Skye cries out eagerly.

With a sigh, Lance acquiesces.  “Oh very well, a bildshnipe then.”  He pauses then though at the puzzled look on little Jemma’s face.  “Oh, a bildshnipe is this wicked creature that lives on Asgard, and… well, they’re big and ugly and scary.  Skye can tell you more, she’s the one that’s been to Asgard.”

Jemma simply blinks at all of this and gives Skye a curious look, then turns her attention back to the story taking place.

“Anyway, the warriors sneak up on the humongous bildshnipe in the dead of night and surround it.  They think they’re so clever, and that they’ll have no problem taking it down.  But little did they know… that the bildshnipe’s *mother* was lurking nearby in the dark!  And just when the warriors were about to attack, the mama bildshnipe appeared and gobbled them all up!”  With this, Hunter lunges out and grabs Skye, tickling her sides as she shrieks with delight.

Jemma had gasped and scooted quickly away at the sudden movement, but when she sees the tickling taking place, she lets out a giggle.

Hunter next turns slowly toward Jemma, whose eyes go wide.  “Uh-oh… it looks like I missed a warrior,” Hunter teases, starting to advance on the little girl.

“Nooo,” Jemma says with a nervous giggle, hopping to her feet and backing away.

Her steps backward lead her right to Bobbi and May, at the edge of the mats.  Morse scoops the little girl up from behind, eliciting a loud gasp of surprise from her, and declares, “don’t worry, honey!  I’ll protect you from the scary monster!  And from any bildshnipes, too,” she teases, winking at Hunter.

“Oh, ha ha… why does everyone pick on me?” Hunter whines quietly before suddenly pouncing toward Skye and tickling her again.

Jemma bites her lip at Hunter’s lunge and turns to hide her face in Bobbi’s shoulder.  The agent’s heart expands painfully in her chest and she places a soft kiss to the little girl’s temple.  “I’ve got you, darling.”

“Okayyy, Uncle Hunter, thank you very much… for riling the girls up right before bed,” May mutters, giving Lance a shove away and scooping up her laughing daughter.

“No problem!  I’m here all week,” Hunter quips.

“All right, say ‘good night’, girls.”

“Good night, girls!” Skye exclaims, leaning back to hang upside down from her mother’s arm.  She bursts out laughing at her own joke.

May rolls her eyes but can’t help but chuckle at her little girl’s silliness.  She hoists her back up into her arms and says, “you goofball,” before squeezing her tight.  “Say ‘good night’ to Jemma, bǎo bèi.”

Skye ceases the giggling and grins over at Bobbi and Jemma.  “Good night.”

Jemma peeks up.  “Night,” she says quietly, looking curiously at May holding Skye.

“Good night, munchkin,” Bobbi says, leaning over to give little Skye a kiss.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~**

Morse walks Jemma back toward their room, rubbing her back gently.  “It’s time for a bath, sweetheart.  Did you have fun with Hunter and Skye?”

Jemma nods with a little smile, but a moment later she wriggles uncomfortably.

Morse looks carefully down at her as they arrive at the room, then gently sets her back on her feet.  “Okay, honey.  I hope you like bubbles.”  She leads Jemma into the bathroom and kneels to help undress the youngster.  Bobbi realizes that she should have known better when she hears the now familiar, “I can do it”. 

Morse steps back.  “Yeah?  You can do a full bath by yourself?  Wash your hair and everything?”

With that subtle sense of pride apparent again, Jemma nods.

“All right, sweetie.”  Bobbi shows Jemma what soap, shampoo and conditioner she can use, lays out a cup, a towel and washcloth, then says, “I’ll be right in the bedroom.”

Sure enough, Bobbi hears light splashing from the bathtub as she changes into a pair of pajama pants and a light green cotton shirt.  She rummages through the shopping bags from earlier in the day and folds and puts away Jemma’s new clothes.  Just as she hears the youngster stepping out of the tub, she lays her surprise for Jemma on the floor, off the opposite side of the bed.  She has plans to present it to her later.

Little Jemma emerges five minutes later, all dry with her teeth and hair brushed.  Bobbi smiles and goes to brush her own teeth.  In doing so she notices that the little girl has forgotten to let the water out of the tub, and does so.  Drawn by the sound, Jemma appears in the doorway, still wrapped in her towel, biting her lip again and fidgeting. 

“I… I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Bobbi blinks.  “Sorry?  For what, love?  For forgetting to drain the water?”

Jemma nods, head hanging low.

Morse feel a twinge on her heartstrings.  “Darling… you just took a bath all by yourself, you washed your hair and brushed your teeth.  You, little one, have nothing to be sorry about.  I’m so proud of you,” Bobbi praises delicately.  With a smile she gestures back out to the bedroom.  “Now, get your PJs on so we can finish our book!”

Fifteen minutes later, Jemma is reading the final line of ‘The Velveteen Rabbit’.  “But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real.[4]” 

Morse applauds, causing Jemma to give a quiet giggle.  “Sweetheart, you are *such* a great reader!  You’re probably reading at a fifth grade level, you know that?”

Jemma beams with pride.

“Now… I have a present for you, for doing such beautiful reading.”  Bobbi reaches over the edge of the bed and retrieves the gift… a stuffed Velveteen Rabbit of Jemma’s very own. 

The little girl’s jaw drops as she sees it.  “It… it looks just like in the book.”

Morse grins brightly and strokes Jemma’s still damp hair.  “That’s right!  This is your very own Velveteen Rabbit, sweetie.  And I can’t wait to see what happens if you fill him up with so much love.”

Jemma smiles as she accepts the stuffed bunny and stretches her legs out in front of her.  She bites her lip as she says quietly, “but… it’s just a story”. 

“Just a story?” Morse asks, in mock indignation.  “Like how the bunny in the story was ‘just a toy’?” she points out, with raised eyebrows.  “I met this bunny, and he told me that he really wanted to come with us, and be your friend.  So… don’t let him down, okay?”

Jemma looks at the stuffed rabbit, and runs a finger along the stitching she’s just read so much about.  Finally, she looks back up at Bobbi.  “Thank you,” she states softly, then in a quite surprising move, reaches up to give her guardian a hug.

Morse returns the hug, basking in the child’s warm, though brief, embrace.  She then watches wistfully as Jemma slides off the bed and brings her bunny with her to her cot.

Morse follows and tucks the youngster in, then leans down and plants a kiss on her forehead.  “Good night, sweetheart.  Remember, wake me if you need me.”

Jemma nods and settles down for sleep, laying her bunny beside her.  Morse is slightly disappointed that Jemma has placed the bunny close by, but isn’t cuddling with it.  She lets that go though as she turns out the light, and heads out to catch up with the rest of the team.

When she and Hunter return an hour later though, Morse enjoys the surprise waiting for her.  Light spills faintly out from a crack in the closet, where Hunter has gone to change.  This light gently illuminates the little girl in the cot, and Bobbi smiles broadly to find Jemma sound asleep with her new stuffed bunny tucked securely under one arm.  The joy that engulfs Morse at this sight makes her understand what May and Coulson have come to learn… that while being a primary guardian can be exhausting, it is also utterly, completely worth it.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**To be continued in Chapter 2**

 

[1] This is in reference to my story SHIELD’s Little Surprise – Chapter 6 – Interplanetary Adventures.

[2] Williams, Margery.   _The Velveteen Rabbit_.  George H. Doran Company.  1922.

[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Playbox_(1980s_TV_series)

 

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate all positive feedback on my works, and it encourages me to post more. Thank you for every 'Kudos' that you leave, and for telling me what you enjoy about my writing. Happy Reading!


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